


Pretium Invidia

by LeTempest



Series: 25 Days of Spartacus [3]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Vengeance
Genre: Canon AU( I guess because it's probably not gonna happen this way), Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 13:25:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeTempest/pseuds/LeTempest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I have been treated that way my whole life, not a man, but a thing to be held only by roman hands. And I will not suffer it from you as well."<br/>~<br/>Agron's jealousy issues are really getting on Nasir's last nerve. </p><p>Day three of the 25 days of Spartacus.<br/>Prompt: Nasir getting hit on by Castus for anon</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretium Invidia

**Author's Note:**

> I swear this started out being a well thought out and contemplative storyline about Nasir having NONE of Agron’s jealous boyfriend bullshit. What I ended up with was porn. Worst part is, I’m not even sorry.
> 
> Prompt: Nasir getting hit on by Castus for anon  
> ~*~
> 
> PS Don't own Spartacus and I am making no money on this

“He seems of a mood today,” a voice behind Nasir’s shoulder said and the Syrian turned, finding the Numidian at his side. Nasir smiled. Castus was quick to smile and laugh, and there was an easiness about him that comforted Nasir. The pleasant grin reminded the Syrian much of Oenomaus and he returned the gesture in kind.

            “Indeed,” Nasir sighed, turning back to watch Agron, bickering with Crixus once again. He took the cup pressed into his hand.

            “ I will never understand what you see in him, my friend,” Castus laughed, “he is loud and bull headed. I cannot image he holds any sense of delicacy or attention to detail. Lack of such talents has left many a lover lacking in their own needs.”

            Nasir rolled his eyes. Castus had made his attractions to the Syrian quite clear from the get go. But Nasir’s devotion to Agron had tempered that fire somewhat. These days his flirtations were as much for humor as anything, a game of words the two played.

            “The poor fucks,” Nasir shot back with his own smile, “To never know the feeling of such loving and _thorough_ hands upon them.”

            Castus raised a question brow and the two fell into smiles and laugher again. Castus clapped a hand on Nasir’s shoulder, a gesture he shared with many among the rebels.

            He did not expect the body that pressed between them, the hand that pushed him so roughly back.

            “Remove _fucking_ hand,” Agron snarled.

            Nasir could only blink for a long moment, taken aback by the outburst.  He had not even seen Agron. Why had the man been so quick to fall upon them?

            “He meant no harm.”

            Still Agron pushed Nasir back with his arm, like a child.

Castus opened his arms in a pacifying gesture, his eyes still on Nasir.

“Apologies,” he chuckled though the words were offered to the Syrian and Nasir had to wonder just who’s behavior Castus was apologizing for.

Nasir scowled, a sudden thrum of anger filling his chest as Castus turned into the crowd and was gone. Memories he hoped forgotten rose up in him, memories of  unwanted hands upon his flesh, of commands given and dutifully obeyed. Agron reached for him, but the Syrian batted the hand away, roughly. It was Agron’s turn to be surprised.

“Nasir,” he ventured.

“No,” the Syrian snarled back, “Do not speak to me until you are ready to treat me as equal, not possession. I have as much will as you, and right now I wish to neither see nor speak to you.”

            With that, he turned on his heel and stalked away, fuming.

~*~

            It was the next night when Agron finally found the courage to come to him.

            Nasir looked up from where he sat on their bed, sensing the man’s presence. Life as a slave had taught him to anticipate, a skill that stilled served him well as a soldier. He shot Agron a venomous scowl, before turning back to the combing of his hair.

            Agron worked his way awkwardly out of his armor. Usually, Nasir would come to aid, a ritual between them. But when he had come in to find the shattered remains of the wine amphora, he found his humor for Agron’s foul moods all the more exasperated.  The German did not speak, only shrugged out of the metal and leather, piece by painstaking piece. Nasir did his best not to look at the firm body beneath. But one sideways glance was all it took. He caught a snarl in his hair at the distraction, swearing under his breath.

            “May I offer aid,” Agron asked and his voice was almost timid.  
            “No,” Nasir snapped in reply, anger flaring anew, now that it’s target was present, “I will do it myself.”

            Agron scooted away, silent as Nasir worked at the horrid knot with fingers and comb, cursing the whole way. Long moments of silence passed between them.

            “Nasir…” Agron ventured.

            “Stay your apologies,” Nasir snapped, “I will have none of them.”

            Agron’s mouth curled into a snarl of his own as he stood.

            “Is Castus truly so dear to you that you can no stand an affront to his honor,” Agron sneered and Nasir was on his feet too.

            “It is not about Castus! It never was! It is us and the regard in which you hold me,” Nasir shouted, nearly chest to chest with the German, staring up at the man in defiant rage.

            But Agron’s brow furrowed in confusion, causing Nasir to turn away, snarling.

            “And the gladiator does not even see his mistake!” he said, throwing his arms into the air in frustration.

            “I do not…”

            “I love you, you stupid, impetuous fuck,” Nasir shouted at him, turning to face his lover, “I would give anything to see you safely back to my arms, every time you leave them. But you do not trust me to even speak to other men, at least those you do not claim as brother and friend. That you think me too stupid to know when a man is flirting with me, or so unfaithful as to succumb to such whims is affront enough. But still it continues deeper! When we are together, I feel more complete than I have ever felt in the whole of my life. But among your brothers, you treat my as a pet! Like a possession to be cloistered away, lest it be stolen by a lesser man! I have been treated that way my whole life, not a man, but a _thing_ to be held only by roman hands! And I will not suffer it from you as well!”

            Agron stared at him in stunned silence, and Nasir found he was breathing hard. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the color rise in his cheeks. He had not meant to have such an outburst. It was not usually his way.

            “Nasir,” Agron ventured again, after a time, “I am sorry. Will you at least look at me?”

            Nasir relented, turning to face the man, but his expression was cold and closed.

            Agron shook his head

“ I know I am far from a perfect man,” he said quietly, hand coming up to rest on the back of Nasir’s neck, “I have lost much. Sometimes I cling too tightly to the things I have left, the things I love.

            Nasir leaned into the touch, against his better judgment. A part of him wanted to cling to his anger a while longer.

           

 

            “I would slay all who lay attempt to rest you from my arms. But I never stopped to think of how such an idea would reflect upon you. It was my jealousy and pride at work. I did not mean to demean you. You are a free man, and all my actions did was remind you that you were not always such,” he reached out the other hand, pressing it against the scar of Nasir’s side, “You have proven often enough that you are more than capable of defending yourself for unwanted advance.”

            Nasir sighed, feeling the anger begin to dwindle.

            “ I will not have you repeat such actions,” he said firmly, with the smallest quirk of his lips.

            Agron’s face spit in a smile and he touched his forehead to the other’s.

            “Nor would I, for the offense it caused you, or for the verbal flaying I have received because of it.”

            “Justly given,” Nasir reminded him.

            “And humbly accepted. It was deserved.”

            Nasir let his arms wrap around Agron’s waist, soaking up the rare luxury of simply holding each other.

            “Our bed grows too cold in your absence,” Nasir said quietly, tilting his head up to brush his lovers lips with his own, “Opportunity has been scarce of late. I would not see it further squandered for reasons now resolved.”

            Agron turned his head to close the distance, stealing himself a kiss.

            “You have my deepest apologies. I would see such problems remedied tonight,” Agron said against Nasir’s lips, strong hands coming to rest on the Syrian’s hips, pulling him along as he stepped backwards towards the bed.

Nasir followed without hesitation, all thoughts of anger fleeing from his mind. He loved this man, who’s hands and words could make him forget the things he’d rather not remember, at least for a while.

They fell into each other, all roaming hands and hungry mouths, exploring territories they both knew by heart. Agron wrapped an arm around Nasir’s waist, rolling them over. The Syrian was happy to open his thighs, let the bigger man’s bulk settle atop him. His own hands explored the hard muscle of his lover’s shoulders and arms. Agron’s hands slide up his sided, cupping his face, kissing him lazily. They parted for breath and Nasir could not help his smile as Agron racked his fingers through the Syrians dark hair.

“Sometimes I forget how much the gods have blessed me,” Agron said, the affection clear in his voice. Nasir leaned up, just enough to press a kiss against the curve of his lover’s jaw, hand slipping between their bodies, palming his lover’s half hard cock through his subjigalia. Agron growled, rolling his hips into the touch and the Syrian grinned suggestively.

“I have not,” he said, nipping softly at Agron’s lower lip.

The German needed no more encouragement than that. Fingers tangled in the fines hair at the nape of Nasir’s neck, Agron claimed his lover’s lips in a predatory kiss. He shifted to his knees, his free hand working at the ties of Nasir’s trousers.

Agron was relentless, even when they parted for breath. He left sharp, biting kisses along Nasir’s jaw. A sword calloused hand slipped into the Syrian’s trousers, and he gasped at the sensation, back arching to press his hips all the more firmly into the touch. Agron took advantage of the situation, trailing love bites along the curve of Nasir’s exposed throat, across his shoulders, down his chest. Nasir’s own hands grabbed at his man, digging into the firm muscles of his shoulder, racking his fingers through the unruly brown hair.

 Agron worked his lover’s cock in slow, easy jerks, the way he knew would drive Nasir to insanity, to keep him begging without pushing him to the brink. He traced lazy circles around Nasir’s nipples, first one and then the other, before making his way down the taunt expanse of Nasir’s stomach, pausing once to touch the scar on Nasir’s side.  He dipped his tongue into the hollow of Nasir’s navel, stilling his hands. Nasir huffed indigently at the loss but Agron looked up at him with a wolfish grin, tugging at Nasir’s trousers. The boy lifted his hips and Agron relived him fully of the offending garment, tossing it to the floor.

Agron he followed the jut of each hipbone with his lips, causing Nasir’s breath to catch in his chest. He looked down at Agron, pleading and his lover grinned wickedly back at him. Rough fingers reached between his thighs, cradling his sack with uncharacteristically gentle hands. His heart shot up in his throat at the touch and his back arched. Agron chuckled; the warm breath on Nasir’s stiffened cock sent another jolt of lightening up his spine.

“Treacherous fuck,” Nasir snarled, growing ever more frustrated with this game.

Agron seemed to sense the growing hostility because he kept Nasir’s gaze as he leaned in a fraction, tongue darting out to lap the very tip of his lover’s cock.  Nasir keened before he could stop himself, biting his lip to stifle the sound, but too late.

“I suppose I have been reason enough for your grief tonight,” he said with a smile, before slowly taking Nasir into his mouth.

The boy groaned, his hands reaching for Agron’s shoulders. The thought of such act had disgusted him for a long time. It was a service that was preformed by slaves, not on them.  But Agron had shown him pleasure in many things that the youth had once found deplorable, never pushing him to far or too fast, always willing to try the things Nasir showed interest in. There was a comfort in knowing that, at any moment, Nasir could tell Agron to stop and the man would, without hesitation or question.  He loved this man, rash and hot tempered though he may some times be, and there was no doubt in Nasir that the man loved him back.

But the Syrian’s mind was quickly pulled from such deep contemplation as Agron hollowed his cheeks, taking his lover’s cock deeper into his mouth. Nasir bit back a groan, pressing his heels into the bed, lifting his hips. But it seemed Agron had other plans. He hands wrapped around Nasir’s thighs, stilling him. Nasir’s hands tangled in Agron’s unruly hair, eyes rolling back as Agron sucked his cock. The Syrian could feel his heart pick up, feel the blood rush lower.

“Agron,” he panted, and there was urgency in his voice, one his lover seemed to understand.

Agron lifted his head, replacing his mouth with a hand.

“Not like this,” Nasir groaned, “I want you inside me.”

Argon pressed a kiss to the inside of Nasir’s thigh.

“Your will, my hands,” he said, reluctantly pulling away. 

Agron rose to his knees, untying his sujigalia as Nasir rolled to his side, grabbing small amphora of oil. One of the many luxuries of taking these roman villas was being afforded roman comforts, such as scented oils and comfortable beds. He tossed the rose colored bottle to Agron with a wicked grin of his own.

Argon sat back on his heels and Nasir went to him without beckoning, crawling into the larger man’s lap. Just one of many advantages they had discovered, of being so different in stature. Agron poured the oil into Nasir’s hand, watched enrapt as the Syrian’s hand went to his cock, working the oil over his almost painfully hard shaft. He coated his own fingers, trailing them down Nasir’s spine.

Nasir growled against Agron’s shoulder as the first calloused finger pressed into him. He rolled his hips, urging Agron deeper. The Syrian was hard and the thought of his lover inside him set his heart to racing all over again. Their lips met as a second, impatient finger joint the first. Nasir hissed, nipping Agron’s bottom lip. There was a slow burning ache inside him, from being so stretched so quickly, but it was as much pleasure as pain. He willed his muscled to relax, rocking his hips when he felt his lover falter and being to remove the touch.

“Don’t you dare,” the Syrian snarled, catching the hair at the base of Agron’s skull, tugging as he rolled his hips.

Agron smiled, kissing Nasir hungrily as he worked.

“Fuck the gods,” he groaned, “If you keep that up, I won’t be able to last.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Agron replied, pushing the fingers deeper, drawing another pleased sound from Nasir.

“A little pain for the sake of greater pleasure,” he laughed breathlessly, taking Agron’s lips again, “And if you don’t hurry, I will find it well before you do.”

            Agron growled, possessive and needing. It was understood between them now that the bedroom was the one place Nasir would allow such thoughts. The Syrian rose on his knees, feeling Agron’s clever fingers leave him, going instead to his own cock. A guiding hand rested against his hip, easing him down on to his lover shaft. The Syrian caught his lips between his teeth, his body stretched to the point of pain and for a half a moment he regretted his decision to end Agron’s ministrations so quickly. But the other was there,  pressing soft kisses to his skin, hands smoothing over the taunt muscles of his back, and ass and thighs.

            “Too much?” the other asked against his skin.

            “Just enough,” Nasir replied, taking a breath through his nose, willing the muscles to relax.

            Minutes passed, his body accepting the abrupt intrusion, little by little. Pressed chest-to-chest as they were, Nasir could feel the thundering of his lover’s heart, the quickness in his breath, but Agron did not push, allowing Nasir to move as he saw fit. He finally settled in the other’s lap with a heavy sigh. The pain was little more than a distant ache, when he whispered his commands into Agron’s ear.

Nasir rolled his hips down hard, meeting Agron’s thrust. The room filled with the sounds of heavy breath, of whispered names, and flesh on flesh. Pleasure flooded the mind and took hold of the body until all they knew was each other, moving together in a familiar dance. Nasir racked his nails across Agron’s back, panting a stream of nonsensical endearments between heated kisses. Agron’s hands gripped his hips hard enough to bruise, fucking his lover hard and quick and impossibly deep, sticking the place within Nasir that set the Syrian’s skin aflame. Nasir could feel the heat pooling in his belly, arched his back to gain a little more friction between his aching cock and Agron’s hard stomach.

“Nasir?”

“Ahhh-Almost”

            Agron’s hand slid over his skin, give his ass a firm grab, sliding down he back of his thighs, behind his knees and back up, whispering endearments as he rocked upwards into Nasir again. Those hands, those lips, this perfect, imperfect man.  Nasir did not last long under such careful tending.

            Orgasm washed over him, drawing him tight as a bow. He arched against Agron, his fingers finding purchase in the back of the man’s shoulder and bicep, holding on for dear life as he came hard between their bodies.

                        Agron was quick to follow, clutching Nasir tightly to him, as the movement of his hips grew frantic. He finished, panting, Nasir’s fingers in his hair and the Syrian’s lips against his temple. Neither one could hold control of their spine any long and the feel back into their bed, blissfully tired.

            Agron rolled over, his head pillowed on Nasir’s chest. For a long while they simply laid their, listening to each other’s breathing.

            “While I hate quarreling with you,” Agron said after a time, “ we should do so more often. I think this is the longest we’ve been abed without being a sleep in a while.”

            Nasir chuckled.

            “Pick your fights with Crixus then. Gods know, the others scarcely can handle you two not bickering like old hens in the background. As for Castus and the others, I will deal with them in my own way.”

            He felt Agron smile against his skin, his breath already deepening with the coming of sleep. 


End file.
